


Prisoner

by AreYouReady



Series: It Wasn't Me (I Wasn't There) [4]
Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, B Is Sort Of L's Personal Therapist, Gen, L Goes To Them For Advice, M/M, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreYouReady/pseuds/AreYouReady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L thinks he's wrong. He gets some advice about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> This really can't be read as a standalone. It takes place after Cuckold and Failure. B is forty, L is forty one or forty two, which would make Light about thirty five.
> 
> B is nonBinary and uses they/them pronouns. Deal with it.

L’s feet cramped in the ill-fitting sneakers he wore as he padded down the prison hall. A lot of Wammy’s House money had been thrown around in marginally legal ways to set up this arrangement, especially since L only used it once or twice a year, but it was very important that, when he needed it, L could enter the prison freely, and speak to the only occupant he cared about _completely_ privately. When he arrived in the specially constructed visiting cell, an orange-jumpsuited figure was already cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the bars.

“Hello old friend,” said the figure, looking up with a weary grin.

“Backup,” L greeted, letting his voice take on just a touch of warmth. He had no reason to lie here, his only audience had already seen the worst he had to offer, and would take his secrets to the grave.

“I ruined my good looks to get you to stop calling me that, but alas, you are a stubborn asshole,” B grinned rakishly, and L was still somehow surprised by their ability to be flippant about the events of the summer of 2002.

“You weren’t exactly a model, B. Though with the way you preen, I _am_ a little surprised that you risked it,” L ribbed them.

“I feel like after all these years, you should have accepted that insulting my femininity is literally the least effective tactic in any sort of mockery. But oh well, you can’t win them all.” B gave a long suffering sigh. “What little emotional problem do you want me to handle for you this time, darling?” They took the edge off the vaguely passive aggressive words with a cheeky wink.

“Well…” L looked away. He was embarrassed. He knew he was embarrassed. He knew that there was no reason for him to be embarrassed as B knew the vast majority of his dirty secrets and emotional hang ups. But he was still very deeply embarrassed. Fortunately, B was perhaps the world’s foremost expert on reading L’s emotions, (his only competition being Quillish and, well…)

“Oh hell, well that’s fantastic. It’s Yagami, isn’t it? Have I ever told you that you’re a fucking idiot?” B’s eyes were narrowed in worry masked by exasperated annoyance.

“Almost every time I come here, and invariably when Light’s name is mentioned as the reason,” L responded.

“Good, you need the reminder.” B blinked at him slowly, as though to announce that that particular case was irrevocably closed and they would not hear any protest. “Now what, exactly, is _Light-o_ up to that justifies you flying all the way out to LA to talk to little old me?”

“He’s unhappy.”  L brought his thumb to his lips, a part of a persona so old it had ceased to become false. B, of course, caught the gesture, and frowned. They’d put on that face too, once, though in a manner far more brief and extreme. But they were more likely analyzing _him_ , seeing some ill in _his_ continued use of the mannerism even in this place, rather than harking back to their own bitter spell of imitation.

“Whether Yagami is enjoying his life or not isn’t your concern unless you make it, Lawliet.” B’s voice was flat.

“No, you misinterpret. Or… I did not say enough. Light is unhappy with his wife. They tried very hard to have a child a few years ago, but failed, and now she is having an affair and he knows it. But he hasn’t asked to split with her, nor has he had any affairs of his own.” L waited for B to catch his meaning.

“You see an opening. I thought you were absolutely convinced he would come crawling back to you on all fours once he realized his mistake. Or are you actually rethinking your own judgement, for once?” B raised an eyebrow. L huffed a bit and looked down.

“It’s been so many years. I thought he was… well, perhaps the word is _satisfied._ Pleased with his life, and with his cruelty. But now everything is coming apart around him. I thought he was being cruel when he left for Kiyomi, but perhaps he was simply… weak.” L had doubted his own judgement of Light for a long time now, but it still hurt to admit it out loud. Even if the whole reason he loved Light in the first place was that he could never quite get the whole picture. B picked up on his discomfort, and instead of being the resounding _“I told you so”_ that he knew they were longing to give him, their response was soft and encouraging.

“If you were wrong, then perhaps this is an opportunity. I think you should try.”

“Well, if you think so…”

“Christ, L, I’ve known you for three decades and I’ve never seen you fret over anyone or anything the way you do over Light. Honestly, the more I hear about him, the more I want to meet him, just so I can shake his hand.” B’s voice was somewhat exasperated.

“Much as I’d love to introduce the two of you, I doubt I could convince him to follow me to a prison in Los Angeles so we can visit a serial killer who also happens to be my ex.” L replied drily.

“Well, when you put it that way…” B feigned a considering look, exaggeratedly looking off to the left and pulling at their lip. But then they turned back and looked him in the eye. “But you know I can leave any time I want. You had me trained for it. You know I get out about three times a month, don’t pretend you don’t.”

“I always _was_ a bit offended that they put you in an ordinary prison; LABB was fine work, if a bit needlessly elaborate.” L said, musing.

“You only think that because you’re an amoral bastard, Lawliet. I knew that when I was twenty two and I know it now. Though it’s been a long time since I’ve hated you for it.” B gave him a tired grin. L knew the routine that they were trying to begin here. He and B would hash over each of their hurts, using nearly identical phrasing as when the two of them had begun the ritual seventeen years before. It had started as a way to mend their relationship, but now it was simply a soothing exercise, centering in its familiarity. But L did not want to be soothed. He did not need his emotions calmed, he needed them riled up in a particular way. He needed courage, which meant he needed confidence, which meant he needed reassurance.

“No, Backup. Not today.” L said, calmly, softly, in the voice he used to give orders that were not to be questioned. B blinked, looking at him in surprise.

“You don’t want me to talk you out of doing anything stupid and then hash out a plan of attack so that when you do eventually do the stupid thing, you’ll do it well?” B sounded surprised. L smiled a bit. That was his usual pattern. But…

“No,” he replied.

“Oh my God. Oh my _God_. L Lawliet, did you fly all the way to Los Angeles for me to give you a _pep talk_ about _winning your boyfriend back_?” B’s voice was just a touch incredulous.

“In fairness to myself,” L defended, “I was in the area anyway for a case.” It had been totally unnecessary to work on site for this _particular_ case, but B didn’t know that.

“Fine then. Look, L, no one’s ever going to measure up to you for him. You’ve told me enough about him that I have a reasonable picture of him in my head. And you’re right, L. He _is_ weak. I don’t know how you ignored it, but he is. I guess he hid it well and you saw what you wanted. But this is what I’ve been telling you for years. You interpret too many things as an attack on yourself. Most people aren’t interested in other people, only themselves, and they do things only for how it’s going to affect them. He didn’t leave you out of cruelty, he got with her because, from what you told me, people were starting to talk. As for why he ignored your hints, I don’t know. But he’ll find it harder to ignore you. And look, L, he cheated, but you left first. It’s time you fixed this.” They slapped their hands on their knees to emphasize their last point.

“Alright. Alright, B.” He did feel better about swallowing his pride and finally going to see Light in person. Though he didn’t know why B had to make a moral imperative out of everything. L leaving without warning or communication had been a regular occurrence throughout his relationship with Light; he failed to see why a slightly longer absence gave the boy permission to run off with some woman. B was a very moralizing person, though, it was one of their interesting traits. They were utterly cold, absolutely no gut conscience or squeamishness at all, but they viewed everything through an ideological moral lens. It was what had destroyed their Wammy’s House career. A sense of right and wrong was never advisable when one was trying to be the best.

“So, you’re going to talk to Yagami. Actually, genuinely talk to him in person, no hints, no puzzles, no games. And then you’re going to stop pining, no matter what happens. Look, L, you’re obsessed. And it’s destroying you. I don’t know if you’re in the right or the wrong here, but subjectively, from a standpoint of caring only about your psychological health, Yagami is killing you. Fix it.” B said, staring him straight in the eye.

“Okay.” L nodded. He trusted B to tell him what he didn’t know about himself, they had made a lifetime’s work of studying him, after all, and they’d gone through many different perspectives during that time. They’d seen him in almost every possible light, and he trusted them to see clearly past illumination of any color. B gave a curt nod that signaled that was that, and there was a pause while they waited for L to expound on his next topic of trouble. He didn’t have one, this was a single topic visit. So he turned the conversation to them. “How are the social experiments going?”

“Oh, fascinatingly!” B’s face lit up, as it always did when the topic of their own knowledge gathering and analysis came up. “The warden is absolutely convinced he’s going mad, and Officer Glasgow is pretty sure that I’m not real, although he’s still suspicious. I’ve got half the inmates on a vegetarian diet, too, and they’re starting to cook for it, and even stock the kitchen for it, it’s fantastic. All my current ones are working much faster than expected! Although, to be fair, this isn’t exactly a control group, I’ve been fucking with these people’s heads for years, it might’ve made them impressionable. But the results are still amazing!” B nodded vigorously, grinning and, even after so many years, quietly begging for L’s approval like a puppy that wasn’t sure whether it should be proud or not. L smiled at them, and their insecurity disappeared. L felt a slight pang of guilt for instilling that particular complex back when he was a teenager and people were still things. But B and A had been _prototypes._ Their failures had paved the way for many successes. A’s life and B’s self-worth could be classified as necessary sacrifices in the search for a perfect Wammy’s House model of operation.

They continued their smalltalk for the better part of an hour, as L ruminated on B’s advice, and B took the opportunity to gather as much news as they could about the home of their teenage years (for although they were a bit disgusted by it, morally speaking, Wammy’s had still been their home for seven of the most developmentally important years of a child’s life. Curiosity was natural, and B was more naturally curious than most).

When the conversation wound to a close, B sprang to their feet with an agility that one would not expect from someone forty years of age, but which they had always possessed. They had never quite managed to be graceful, but they were always agile and never moved stiffly, even as their body should be beginning to shirk its duties and slowly fail. L stuck his left hand through the bars, using the one that B favored in a tradition that was a remnant of a peace offering long ago. B shook it, and then pulled them close together to kiss him on the cheek. L did the same, careful to avoid the thick keloid scarring on the left side of their jaw so that they would actually be able to feel his lips.

“Until next time, Backup,” he nodded.

“I’ll see you, Lawliet,” they replied. And L turned away, taking a moment to savor the last image he would see of this old memory for many months to come before walking out of the cell.

**He was ready.**


End file.
